


Santa Baby

by lumbeam



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Awkward Conversations, Christmas, M/M, Mall Santa AU, Mall Santa Claus, Masturbation, One Shot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-12-18
Updated: 2018-12-18
Packaged: 2019-09-21 15:13:13
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,906
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17046029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lumbeam/pseuds/lumbeam
Summary: Connor, The Head Elf, learns about the spirit of Christmas thanks to Santa Hank. Sort of.--Mall Santa AU. 'Tis the season!





	Santa Baby

**Author's Note:**

  * For [BeepGrandCherokeeper](https://archiveofourown.org/users/BeepGrandCherokeeper/gifts).



> Happy holidays! Here's some holiday cheer for you!

“Tell Santa what you want for Christmas!” Connor said cheerfully, motioning the small child to Santa’s lap. 

That phrase has been said conservatively about eight million times since last Monday. Connor picked up this job at the Tower Center Mall to get some extra cash for the holidays. Well, not to spend on his family, of course. Throughout the day, he thought about what gifts to get for his friends in between wishing families “happy holidays!” If he has to hear one more conservative mother complain to him about “The War on Christmas…” 

The small kid waddled over to Santa. Santa, who Connor knew only as “Hank,” hoisted the child up onto his lap. The kid was shy, choosing to whisper into Santa’s ear. Santa nodded at the wishes, although Connor doubted he was really paying attention. 

“Ho ho  _ ho _ !” Santa bellowed, “I’ll make sure to tell my little elves to put some extra love and care into your presents!”

The kid pointed at Connor. “Are you going to tell this elf?” 

Connor cracked a smile, feeling dopey enough in his striped costume. The sleeves were a little too short for his long arms, and the hat/ears got pretty warm with the excessive heat being pumped through the mall. Connor wasn’t sure how Hank did it. Then again, he didn’t know much about him. The barrage of children wanting to meet families kept them from interacting much. Even when Connor’s shift was over, he made a beeline to his car. Before he started his shift today, his boss  _ strongly advised _ that Connor shouldn’t walk out dressed in his costume. “Do you think that someone in a Mickey Mouse costume would choose to be seen getting into his shitty Volvo? I don’t think so.” He said gruffly. His boss took mall Santa-ry a little too seriously, but Connor kept his mouth shut. He didn’t want to ruin the “illusion” for the kids, so he changed into his costume in the staff room. 

“Oh, that’s my Head Elf!” Santa said, not missing a beat. “Of course I’ll tell him!” He gently placed the child down onto the floor, where he waved to Connor. Connor waved back, smiling as he saw the kid get scooped up by his mom.  
  
“Happy Holidays!” Connor called out, feeling a mixture of warmth and sadness at the sight. He tried not to think of his mother. 

And so, the remaining hour was pretty much like that. Lots of kid wrangling; some were happy, some were loud, some were screaming and crying. Santa Hank, and to a lesser extent Elf Connor, took it all in stride. Connor resisted the urge to look at the clock behind him. 

For the last child of the night, a small girl with long brown hair, chose to stand instead of sit in Santa’s lap. She was precocious, hands clasped behind her like a little adult. “How do I know you’re really Santa?”

“Why would I  _ not _ be Santa?” 

“Well, if you were Santa, why do I see you in every mall? Shouldn’t you be working on toys?” 

Connor saw Hank smile under the fake beard, the corners of his eyes crinkling at the question. “That’s what my elves are for!”

The little girl made a face, not convinced.

“There’s  _ so many _ elves in the North Pole hard at work on making toys!” Connor chimed in, crouching a little to meet her gaze.    


“You’re a very smart little girl!” Hank said, trying to wrap this up. “Let me know what you’d like for Christmas!”

Her face still twisted up, she said, “You should already know what I want!” 

This kid was being difficult.  _ I’m sure her teachers  _ love  _ her _ , Connor mused.

Hank closed his eyes, acting like he was in deep thought. “I think a little girl like you wants...a pony!”  
  
As an extremely lucky guess, the girl’s mouth dropped open. “Mommy!” She turned and looked at her mom. “This  _ is _ Santa!”

Santa did his “Ho! Ho! Ho!” thing, patting her on the head as she went back to join her mom.

When the girl was out of earshot, Connor said, “Nice guess.”

Hank laughed, different from his Santa laugh. “All girls that age want a pony.” His voice was gravely, not put upon like his Santa persona.   
  
Connor finally looked behind him to check the clock. “It’s 9:15.”

“Great,” Hank said, standing up slowly. He stretched, letting out a groan. Connor tried desperately not to think about the groans. 

The music, a constant loop of Christmas songs, shut off suddenly. Connor couldn’t say he was upset by it. 

“Hey, I’ll see you tomorrow.” Connor said, waving slightly. 

“All right, night Connor.” 

That was the first time Hank said his name. Connor liked the way it sounded coming out of Hank’s mouth.

No one else was in the staff room, everyone seemingly going home  _ exactly _ as the mall closed. Connor didn’t mind that. He took off his elf ears and hat, running a hand over his mussed hair. He grabbed his bag of street clothes, choosing to take it into the bathroom stall to change.  _ Just in case _ . It’s not that Connor was ashamed of his body, far from it. He just didn’t want to show it off at his place of work, even  _ if _ it was just at the mall. 

As he stepped out of his red and green striped outfit (he’ll give them this--the costume was exceedingly comfortable), he heard the staff room door open. As he paid attention to the heavy boots step to the lockers, he saw through the crack of the stall that it was Hank. He instinctively pulled his feet onto the toilet, crouched and hidden. Connor wasn’t a peeping Tom, but--

He watched Hank take off his fake beard to reveal -- an  _ actual _ beard. It was short, grey and white speckled. The inverse of his fluffy white Santa beard. He stripped off his hat next, and Connor saw Hank’s long hair pulled up in a bun. He let down his hair, long strands falling in front of his face. Hank ran a hand through is hair, pulling it out of his face. Hank shed himself from his costume, first unbuckling his big coat. As Hank stripped off his coat, Connor noticed his body wasn’t as  _ full _ as the costume made it seem to be. He still had a tummy, sure, but he didn’t look like, like.

Well, like Santa.

Hank was wearing a grey undershirt, dark spots of sweat under the armpits. “Oh  _ fuck _ ,” Hank groaned, taking off his sweat-ridden shirt.    
  
Connor all but had his face pressed against the stall door, drinking in every bit of information. Eyes traced around the large chest tattoo, the slope of his belly. He inhaled slightly at the sight. Unfortunately, he didn’t factor in where his feet were planted on the toilet.    
  
His left foot slipped right into the toilet bowl. Thankfully, the water was clean. Small miracles. He pulled his foot out from the toilet, water dripping onto the tiles.

“What the  _ fu--who’s there?!” _ Hank called out, shielding his chest. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. Connor scrambled for the toilet handle, flushing it. He stood, smoothing down his button up shirt and he composed himself, unlatching the stall door. “Connor,” Hank sighed in relief, tugging his clean shirt over his head. Connor snuck one more glance at him before he went to wash his hands.    
  
When he was done, he grabbed his costume, his wet tennis shoe squishing with each step. “Sorry Hank! I didn’t mean to scare you.”

“Yeah, well, ya fuckin’ did.” Hank said, turning away from Connor as he tugged down his Santa pants. Disappointingly, Hank was wearing boxers, giving off no indication on if he had a nice ass. Connor averted his eyes, a little shocked at how his coworker,  _ Fucking Santa Claus _ , was getting him all hot under the collar. Connor went to his own locker, fumbling with the combination. “Were you  _ spying  _ on me?” Hank asked accusingly.

Connor, laser-like focus on the combination lock, quickly lied. “No, no. I was going to the bathroom.”

Hank looked down at Connor’s wet shoe. “You fuckin’ shit with your feet on the toilet?”

The lock gave way, and Connor shoved his costume in. He snatched his coat and hat. “...Yes.”

Hank shook his head, laughing a little. Connor noticed the slight gap in his front teeth. “Pretty weird, but who am I to judge.” It didn’t sound like he believed him.

Connor didn’t say anything as he zipped his coat up.

“Hey,” Hank said, buttoning his pants. He walked over to Connor, lessening the small space between them. “If ya do wanna spy on me, just let me know.” Hank clapped Connor on the shoulder, big hands colliding with Connor’s sinewy body. And he fucking  _ winked _ . 

_ Fuck. _   
  
Connor felt his cheeks get warm. He swallowed loudly. “I should--” He started, maneuvering out of the way. 

“See you tomorrow, Head Elf!” Hank called out, laughing. 

“Fuck, fuck, fuck, fuck,” Connor muttered, walking quickly out to his car. It was so cold he was worried that his wet foot would freeze. He drove off, not giving it enough time to heat up. He turned on the radio to distract his thoughts, but the song that greeted him first was “Santa Baby.”

Connor groaned, squirming in his seat slightly. He wasn’t sure if his roommate was going to be home, even though it’s close to Christmas. He changed the station.

When he got back to his apartment, a spacious two bedroom adorned with Christmas decorations (to think that  _ Connor _ was the one who insisted on decorating so much), he found that his roommate left a note. 

_ See you next week! Merry Christmas! - Markus _

“Oh thank God,” Connor moaned, tearing off his hat and coat. Despite having the place to himself, it didn’t seem right to drop trou in the middle of the living space. Connor made his way to his minimalist bedroom. 

He didn’t normally get like this. It wasn’t often that someone awakened something so  _ carnal _ in him. Connor tugged off his pants and crawled onto his bed. His hands were still cold, so he rubbed them together before reaching down to touch himself.    
  
He played back the scene of Hank stripping down, focusing on his stomach, the wideness of his chest, his  _ hands _ .    
  
He imagined Hank finding him, running a hand across his face before Connor kneeled down in front of Hank.

He tried not to think of his title of Head Elf as he sucked Hank off, taking a great deal of consideration to think about how large Hank’s cock probably is--

Before Connor knew it, he was finishing off in his hand. He should have timed that; it was probably a record finish.

And it was all because of some middle aged Santa actor? He always amazed himself with who he’s attracted to. This time, though, it seemed...different. Connor couldn’t say how, or maybe it was his orgasm-addled brain focused on the hopeful future. 

As he cleaned himself up, he thought of how it will be tomorrow. Will it be weird? Business as usual? He pushed those thoughts away. Connor tossed the tissues in the trash, getting up to go shower.  
  
In the heat of the shower, in the privacy of his apartment, he couldn’t help but sing “Santa Baby.”


End file.
